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Minerva heard a light knock and raised her eyes to find Neville Longbottom standing at her doorstep.
“Hello?”
“Oh, there you are,” she said with delight, gesturing at the comfy chair before her desk. “It’s a pleasure to see you.”
“You too, professor,” he smiled.
He entered and looked around the circular room, his gaze falling immediately on the sword beneath the glass cage. “You put it back,” he said, taking few steps towards and watching it intently.
“I’d rather say I put it back where it belongs,” she said with fierceness. “I can’t express how proud I am that the Sorting Hat offered the Gryffindor’s sword to two of my students.”
He smiled sheepishly, his cheeks blushing, and if she hadn’t knew him so well she would have found hard to believe he was the same boy that had stood up against Voldemort himself.
“Do you know that for a time I was convinced the Sorting Hat did a mistake, sending me to Gryffindor? I think my gran didn’t even believe me, at the beginning.”
“I’m sure she did,” lied Minerva, recalling very well how outraged she’d felt on his behalf when Augusta had wrote her to ask for confirmation.
Longbottom let his gaze wander upon the portraits on the walls, and she took the chance to glance at Dumbledore’s, meeting his piercing blue eyes.
“You haven’t changed much around here, since Snape,” commented Longbottom, taking a sit on the comfy chair before her desk.
“No, I haven’t. I reckon I share his will to keep it as professor Dumbledore had.”
“Oh... I’d never been here before Snape. I didn’t know he kept it the same.”
“Well, I suppose now I finally understand why. I've always wondered…” She sighed. “I ended up thinking it was his twisted way to remind everyone who had sat here the year before, and why he wasn’t there anymore... I should have seen the truth.”
“You couldn’t know, professor. Even Voldemort himself didn’t see past the ruse.”
She winced, hating how much power that name still held on her.
“I was supposed to know him better. I should have noticed the clues. Do you know that professor Snape sent the Carrows to my classroom, when they were looking for you?”
Longbottom nodded. “Seamus told me. It didn’t make much sense back then, did it? How could Snape have missed that I didn’t take Transfiguration anymore?”
“It was indeed quite odd,” agreed Minerva, her mind going back to the terrifying day she’d feared for Neville’s life.
“I think he could see the Room of Requirement too, you know? At the beginning I just needed to keep the Carrows and their supporters out, that’s why you could see the door and they couldn’t, but maybe Snape saw it too, and lied to protect me.”
Minerva had never thought about it, but now that Longbottom had pointed it out, it seemed indeed quite plausible. “You know, I reckon you might be right.” She took a deep breath. “It would have been a great relief to know he was on our side, during those dark times.”
“Well, better late than never. At least now we know, and we can tell people the truth.”
“I’m afraid it won’t be that easy to clear his name at the eyes of the students, despite Potter's declarations. The governors didn’t even accept my request to have his portrait made, so far.”
“We heard, but don’t worry, Dean and Luna’s will look great, Harry will make sure of it.”
Minerva raised her eyebrows. “They’re making a portrait of professor Snape?”
All of a sudden, Longbottom’s eyes widened in horror. “Shit,” he mumbled, and Minerva blinked, so bewildered by his cursing that she didn’t even find the wit to scowl at him.
“Er... I... well, er… I forgot it was supposed to be a surprise… Like a gift for the new term, you know… from the D.A.”
Minerva couldn’t believe her ears. She was touched at the thought several pupils had gathered together to do something for Severus, the same teacher that had mistreated them for years even before last term, the same teacher that once had been Longbottom’s own Boggart.
“Harry’s gonna kill me…” he mumbled.
The mere idea was so ridiculously amusing that Minerva instantly regained her spirit. “I’d be more worried about Miss Weasley’s Bat-Bogey Hex, if I were you,” she said with mirth, making Longbottom chuckle. “And anyway, I reckon this could remain our little secret. I promise I’ll look extremely surprised when the time will come. Now, shall we have the tea I invited you for?” she asked, waving her wand. In an instant, a plate of pastries appeared on her desk, alongside a steamy kettle, a selection of tea leaves, two cups, milk and sugar.
Minerva poured the water in the cups and made tea for both. It was nice to do something so mundane with a former student.
“I was surprised you made it in time,” she said when they were sipping their tea. “I heard you’ve quite a work load.”
“Yeah, we do. It’s not as crazy as the first weeks anymore, but I had to ask Ron to cover for me – for the record, he reckons Harry will be jealous he didn’t get an invitation as well,” said Longbottom with a grin. “I think Ron plans to tease him endlessly.”
Minerva bit back a smile. “I shall hope Potter is well aware he’s welcome to join me for tea whenever he likes, as all my students.”
“I’d be careful with this kind of offer, professor,” said Longbottom with amusement, picking another pastry. “Harry and Ron might make a habit of it if they realise it’s the perfect excuse to meet their girlfriends anytime they want.”
This time she couldn’t hold back her smile. “I suppose I’ll have to make sure they won’t take too many liberties, then. Another responsibility on my shoulders, as if being Headmistress and Head of Gryffindor isn’t already enough.”
“Wait, does that mean you’ve found a new Transfiguration teacher?” asked Longbottom with curiosity.
“I have. She’s a bright woman, an old student of mine. She’ll need a bit of time to adjust, of course, but I’ll be there to guide her, especially with the N.E.W.T.s classes, maybe even the fifth year. I think she’ll be a good teacher, but, most importantly, I trust her to treat the students well,” she said, looking Longbottom in the eyes while taking a sip of tea.
He nodded. “Yeah, I agree, that’s the most important thing. Have you found a new Defense Against the Dark Art teacher too?”
“Not yet, I’m afraid. Auror Dawlish applied, but –”
“Dawlish?!” exclaimed Longbottom, his eyes wide in bewilderment.
“ But , I declined his offer,” she said with a firm tone.
Longbottom relaxed on his chair, the backrest cushion sagging under his weight. “I didn’t know he was considering leaving the Aurors, but I guess he’s not very well-liked in the office at the moment…”
“One reason more not to have him at Hogwarts, then.”
Longbottom nodded again, and she felt oddly pleased by his approval.
The were quiet for a bit, drinking tea and eating pastries, when Longbottom frowned.
“Can’t the new Transfiguration teacher give you a hand with Head of House duty? I mean, I know it’s her first experience and all, but she can learn from you, can’t she?”
He shrugged, and Minerva felt secretly smug because he still didn’t suspect the true reason she’d called him.
“It’d be the perfect solution, if it weren’t for the fact she’s a Ravenclaw. I don’t have any other major teacher from Gryffindor, so far, and I would consider myself very lucky to find a good D.A.D.A. teacher who also happens to be a Gryffindor. I’ve thought about Hagrid, even if his class is optional and doesn’t start before the third year, but to be completely frank I don’t see him becoming full time Head of Gryffindor anytime soon.”
Longbottom looked surprised by her bluntness. “Well... I reckon I can’t really imagine him giving career advice…” he agreed eventually.
“No, I’m afraid not. And speaking of career advice, I was meaning to tell you that these days I found myself thinking about yours more than once.”
“You did?” asked Longbottom, his eyebrows raised in surprise.
She gave him a curt nod. “I realised that unlike Weasley and Potter, you’d never expressed the wish to become an Auror, back then.”
“Oh... I... no, I guess I didn’t…”
“I remembered being surprised by it, because I’d expected you would have want to follow your parents steps – if not on your own will, at least under your grandmother’s pressure.”
She also remembered carefully avoiding the topic, because at the time she had been positive Longbottom would have never been able to get enough O.W.L.s.
Because deep down, she’d believed he’d never made a good Auror.
She’d rarely been so utterly wrong.
“I… It’s not that I didn’t want to…” said Neville, fidgeting with his cup. “It’s just... There was no point to tell you, since I thought I had no chance to become one…”
Minerva didn’t comment on it, but she was ready to bet Augusta had probably belittled him because of his low marks.
She looked at him for a long moment, then she opened her drawer and took out her tartan tin.
“Have a biscuit.”
“A biscuit?” he asked astonished, his gaze falling on the already half-empty plate of pastries.
“Just indulge me, Longbottom,” she said sternly, pushing the box closer to him. He smiled sheepishly, taking a Ginger Newt.
“I should have asked you if you dreamed of being an Auror. I should have offered you my support, if that was the case, and fought for you as I did for Potter. Maybe you would have never got enough O.W.L.s anyway, but at least you’d have tried.”
Neville was looking at her with wide eyes, a Ginger Newt in his right hand, forgotten.
“And yet... now that you are an Auror I found myself wondering... is that what you really want?”
Longbottom swallowed, then he remembered his half-eaten Ginger Newt and shoved it into his mouth, chewing slowly. “It’s good to feel useful,” he said eventually.
“It is,” she agreed. “But I can’t help asking... are you doing it because it’s what you love, or because you feel you have to?”
She could tell he was taken aback her words even before he spoke.
“I… they… they asked me to help…”
“Of course they did. You’re a talented, trustworthy young man that proved his worth more time than I can count,” she said, gesturing towards the sword. “But I think it’s time for you to choose your own path, no matter what you think you have to do – no matter what you believe would make your grandmother proudest. It’s your life, Neville. You fought bravely for it, and if being an Auror it’s your dream, then go for it. But if you’re doing it for some kind of obligation, well... then I want you to know you have another choice.”
“Another choice?” he asked, frowning.
“I heard professor Sprout was very pleased with your Herbology N.E.W.T, the other day.”
Neville stilled with his cup lifted in midair, and she wondered if he’d guessed her point.
“It must have been hard getting ready for it while working as an Auror.”
“Oh... well, a bit, yeah,” he said with modesty. “But it wasn’t like... like doing proper homework. I love Herbology. I... it helps me not to think about work, when I get home.”
A moment later he seemed to realise the deeper meaning of his own words, and he hastily took another Ginger Newt, his gaze lowered on the wooden desk.
“I reckon Herbology could be your job, if you wanted it,” said Minerva after he’d swallowed.
Longbottom jerked his head up, looking at her with wide eyes.
“I assume you’re aware that professor Sprout hasn’t been in her best shape since the Battle, correct?”
Longbottom nodded, wary.
“Well, you’d be glad to hear that despite that, she expressed her desire to stay at Hogwarts to help. It’s very generous of her, and I can’t begin to express how relieved I am that she doesn’t want to retire all together, especially since the staff will be so heavily renewed, and especially after the year we’ve been through, but I’m afraid she won’t be able to cover all her previous duties. I suggested she might teach the current last three years classes and keep her role as Head of Hufflepuff, while delegating to an assistant the first four years and the majority of the work in the greenhouse. I’m happy to say that Pomona was thrilled by the idea, and that she made your name for the job.”
Longbottom was looking at her with even wider eyes, positively stunned. “My name?”
“As I told you, we’re looking for people with expertise, but also trustworthy and able to connect with the students. I reckon you splendidly fit all the criteria.”
“But I... I’m no expert... I... I’ve never taught anybody, I don’t…”
“Professor Sprout will train you, and she believes you’re up to the task. In addition, as we’ve already discussed, I really wouldn’t mind a hand with my Head of House duties,” said Minerva, enjoying Longbottom’s bewildered expression. “Not to mention that I can only be Head of Gryffindor temporarily, considering I’m the Headmistress as well. Yes, the governors granted me a derogation, under the circumstances, but I’d reckon you could assist me with the time being, taking over in a couple of years.”
Longbottom looked more incredulous at every word.
“You want me to become Head of Gryffindor?”
Minerva’s lips twitched. She was amazed by the fact that the young man in front of her still couldn’t see how worthy he was, even after all the things he’d been through – all the things he’d proved.
“I can hardly think of someone more fitting than the person who was gifted with Godric Gryffindor’s sword, a person able to lead, inspire and respect the other students.”
Longbottom swallowed, clearly overwhelmed. “I…”
She raised a hand, cutting him off. “You don’t have to give me an answer right now. Take your time to consider it. I can assure you that you would be as useful here as in the Aurors, even if in different ways, but I won’t hold any grudge if you decide to keep your actual job. Just know that it’d mean a lot to the pupils to have you. And in truth, it would be a great honor for me as well.”
***
On September the First, Neville found a present above the desk of his new office, a little parchment laid upon it.
Good luck , it said.
It wasn’t signed, but when Neville unwrapped it and found a tartan tin of Ginger Newt, he immediately knew who’d sent it.